


If You Need A Little Sunshine You Can Borrow Some Of Mine

by orphan_account



Series: before they let us go hs!au [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M, depiction of panic attacks, somewhat realistic portrayal of anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“And I love you for that. I love you for every stupid joke you make, and every stupid, sappy text you send me. I love that you’re willing to go against your dad, who’s the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever met in my entire life, just to be with me.""</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Need A Little Sunshine You Can Borrow Some Of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I based Ryan's anxiety issues off of my own (write what you know, yeah?), so it might be a little offputting if you have issues with that kind of thing, I guess.

Michael woke up to his phone ringing in the dark of his room, the light blinking on and off to the beat of some electronica song that he didn’t know the name of. As he reached over to it, he noticed the clock behind it flashing 12:00 like a strobe. Damnit, the power must have gone out at some point in the night.

“Hello?” he answered blearily.

“I’m sorry, I’m so goddamn sorry,” the voice on the other side practically sobbed. Michael was suddenly very, very awake, sitting up and searching around the floor for his sneakers as he talked.

“Ryan? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry you feel like you have to put up with me, I’m so sorry.”

“Ryan, it’s okay. I love you, you know that.” Michael finally managed to pull the shoes from under his bed, putting them and a thick jacket on. Despite it being early springtime, it was still extremely cold out.

“Michael, I think…I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore,” Ryan answered, as Michael hoisted his bedroom window and slipped out into the cold night. He closed it behind him, which was actually a pretty hard thing to do with one hand.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Ry. I’ll be at your house in a few minutes and it’ll all be fine, I promise.”

“No! My dad’s home, you can’t come over, you can’t.” Michael felt his stomach drop at the thought of being anywhere in the general vicinity of Deputy Haywood. The guy was a complete asshole, even in everyday life, but there was no telling what he was capable of if he found Michael sneaking into his house at 3 in the goddamn morning.

“I don’t care about your dad, Ryan, I care about you. I’ll just be careful, that’s all.”

The voice on the other side of the phone stayed quiet for a few seconds, and Michael could hear a few muffled sobs in the meantime.

“Okay. Okay, that’s fine.”

“Alright, I’m almost at your house,” he reassures, looking around for familiar landmarks and street names, “but I want you to keep talking to me, Ryan. Just keep talking until you feel better. Tell me what’s wrong, tell me how you feel.”

“I feel like garbage, Michael. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to love you.” At that, he wants to interrupt, wants to say what he really thinks, but stays quiet as Ryan continues. “You’re so passionate, and interesting, and I’m just…not. I’m like a breezeblock on a pair of sticks. I’m not interesting, or important, or anything you deserve. You deserve someone that’s got a future. Someone better than me.”

Michael jogged faster as he saw the house he was looking for at the end of the street, to the backyard and the window he knew would be unlocked. He tapped once on the glass, and heard shuffling in the room. He put his phone in the pocket of his pajamas, just as the window slid upward. A hand poked out through the curtains, and he allowed it to help him climb through the thin window and into the room.

Ryan immediately draws him into a tight hug, one hand around his waist, and the other around his thin shoulders. Michael reaches up to wrap his arms around the taller boy’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Ryan.”

“Yes, there is. I have so much to be sorry for.”

“No, you don’t. You’re having another attack, Ryan. In a few minutes you’ll be back to your good old self, and you’ll realize how much I love you.”

“No, I know you love me. What I don’t know is why.”

“What do you mean?” The question throws Michael for a second. He’s helped Ryan through panic attacks worse than this before, but usually they were focused around how he felt like Michael would eventually leave him, or didn’t love him at all. This was something else, something new.

“I’m everything you don’t need. I’m a valedictorian with an anxiety disorder that tried to make you into something you aren’t. Tried to get you to stop being you.” Despite his words, he only holds Michael tighter, closer to him. His voice breaks ever so slightly as he says, “I mean, my dad’s a cop for Christ’s sake!”

Michael leans against Ryan’s chest as he talks, hearing his heartbeat get faster and faster as he talks. There’s a pause, a second of silence that feels like forever, before Michael replies.

“You didn’t try to change me, Ryan,” he answers, his voice soft and low. He pulls himself out of the taller boy’s grip, and sees that his eyes are puffy and red. Ryan notices him looking, and looks away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“But I did, Michael.”

“No, you didn’t. You kept me from fucking committing death by inevitable concussion in a 7/11 parking lot.” At that, Ryan cracked a smile, and Michael put a hand on his jaw, drawing his face back to looking in his direction.

“And I love you for that. I love you for every stupid joke you make, and every stupid, sappy text you send me. I love that you’re willing to go against your dad, who’s the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever met in my entire life, just to be with me. I love that my friends like you, and have just accepted you into our little family.”

Michael briefly thought back to the absolute disaster that had been the party Ray and Gavin helped plan for Ryan’s birthday. The cake had fallen apart, and somebody had set it on fire at some point, but Ryan had still given the lads a genuine thank you, and had actually eaten a couple bites, which was more than Michael would have done. He’d never seen Gav and Ray so proud of their cooking.

“I love that every time I feel like I don’t deserve someone like you,” he continued, starting to tear up, “you make me feel like I’m the center of your world, without me even saying anything about it. I love you because you’re stubborn enough to not give up on a car that at this point honestly is just begging for death. Seriously, you’ve had to literally craft your own piston rockers for that fucking thing, and I’m pretty sure your fuel injector is held on with duct tape, just let it die.” He put a hand to his cheek, wiping away a track of water that surely hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. “Goddamnit, man, you’re making me start to cry now.”

Ryan leaned forward and kissed him, deep and slow. For a second, Michael forgot all of his troubles. Forgot that the world was out to get them. Forgot that his gpa was garbage. Forgot that Ryan’s dad hated everything he was, or could ever hope to be. All he knew was that Ryan loved him. The ineffable, unattainable Ryan Haywood loved him. Holy shit.

“I’m glad you don’t think of me as a burden,” Ryan says, finally breaking away and leaving Michael completely breathless.

“You’re not a burden, you’re a human. We’re supposed to make mistakes and fuck up, dude. If you didn’t I’d be pretty concerned.”

“Well, you’re halfway there already.”

“Huh?”

“You’re pretty. I was…I was making a pun and then realized it wouldn’t make sense unless you were reading it.”

“You’re a fucking dork, dude,” Michael replied with a snicker.

“Yeah, you tell me that a lot.”

“Do you feel better now?” Michael asks, taking one of Ryan’s hands in his.

“Yeah, I feel alright. This fuckin’ disorder is killing my blood pressure.” Ryan laughs, tapping his neck with his free hand. Michael can only assume that the gesture is another dorky reference that he isn’t nerdy enough to understand.

“Can’t be worse than mine, though,” he counters. “As it turns out, being angry half the fucking time isn’t exactly the healthiest thing.”

“You know that thing they teach us in health class? The thing with the two arrows?”

“Yeah, it’s called like, ‘the wellness scale’ or whatever.”

“Fuck the wellness scale,” Ryan deadpans, which causes them both to descend into a fit of muffled giggles.

“Michael, I don’t want you to leave,” Ryan says softly, after they start to quiet down.

“But what about your dad? If he catches me here-“

“He won’t. He barely even talks to me, let alone checks up on me. He won’t even know you were here.” Michael can tell from the subtle lilt in his voice that Ryan is almost pleading with him to stay.

“Okay, you got me. Can’t say no to those puppy dog eyes,” Michael says, finally capitulating. Ryan laughs and pulls him into another kiss. As he starts to lose the world again, a single thought passes through his mind:

Maybe we might turn out okay.


End file.
